Tragedy in the Sands
by 3326freespirit
Summary: Set in Erak's Ransom. The tower Will was shooting from collapses, leaving his friends to patch him up. As always trouble never stays away for long.
1. Chapter 1

**Rangers Apprentice- This is a slight, well kinda major, variation to the ending of Erak's Ransom. I'm on Christmas break so I updates will HOPEFULLY come frequently but I make no promises, especially after school starts back up again. This is my first fanfic so no hating, in fact no hating in general. I great appreciate reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Ranger Apprentice, all rights go to John Flanagan**

**Rated: T-because I'm paranoid just swearing and violence **

**Authors Note: This takes place during the execution ( for those extreme nerds who can pin point the exact page and time, it is directly after Halt waved to Will, after he spotted him, in the tower ****) but towards the end, it then continues from there.**

….as halt turned back he caught a plimps of Yusal as he fled from the square, which had quickly become a killing ground. Knowing that Horace, Gilan and the others had the fights well at hand, halt sprinted after Yusal avoiding the sword strokes and the falling people. As he reached the edge of the market, he saw a brief flash of purple disappear, when it turned the corner at the end of the alley. Halt ran to the end and peaked around the building. He observed Yusal meeting up with some of his men, who had been lucky enough to escape the battle in the square that could still be heard raging in the background. Together they rounded the corner to disappear behind the linen store that was built there. Halt crept forward. His seal skin boots never making a sound on the hard-packed, rocky, dirt ground. He reached the far corner of the inn and leaned his back against the wall to listen and see if Yusal and his men were still there. Halt breathed a silent prayer of thanks that he had listened to his instincts, as the murmur of voices floated towards his strained ears. But his blood started to run cold under the hot Arrida sun when he heard what Yusal and his cohorts were talking about.

"What the hell happened? I thought you said you had captured all of the bowmen?" It was clearly Yusal's venom filled voice.

"We did your excellence, all the foreigners were brought before you. He must have not been in their camp. Maybe he came from the Bouidin." Came the frantic reply.

" Well thanks to your incompetence I have an arrow in my shoulder ,that hurts like a camels bitch, and my army is in the process of being destroyed. Well I am only going to leave if I know that one of those blasted bowmen will suffer by my hand. Get it ready, I want the young hero's head on my dinner platter.

As Halt heard the words, that were spoken with such malor, vengeance and cruelty, diredted at his apprentice , he quickly stole a glance up at the tower which will was perched upon. But it seemed more time had passed than halt thought because some of Yusals men had had the time to discover a way up to Will's tower. Even as he watched, Will killed 4 men climbing the tower with his bow, and took the 5th one down with a knife to the front, and a kick to the back to send him hurling off the edge of the cliff, which the tower was built on.

Halt's concern rapidly returned to yusal as he realized that he had some plan to kill Will. He listened for more conversation but all he heard was yusal barking orders,

" To the left! To the left you quivering moron! Remind me to kill you when this is done. Right there perfect!"

The eldest Ranger risked discovery, peeked around the corner , and saw the men operating some trebuquet/catapult looking machine. Although it was much smaller than a normal trebuquet, Halt still knew who the intended target was. Will. Having no way or time to warn him Halt dashed into the open, desperate to stop the act before it was too late. To Halt's despair is was.

"Release!" yusal shouted just as Halt appeared.

Helpless to intervene, Halt had no choice, but to follow the path of the airborne boulder as it hit its target. The tower groaned; the rotten wood finally gave way and toppled over, rising dust in to the air. Deep, dark hatred and fury seized Halt's emotions of terror and concern, and over shadowed them: while he witnessed Will and the tower disappear into the billowing dust.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tragedy in the Sands- Chapter 2**

**Summary : I know I'm going this backwards…. (Erak's Ransom) The tower which Will was shooting from collapses and the rest of the crew have to rescue him and save him before it's too late.**

**Authors Note: I did the math a while back and I found out that Will would be like 20 or 21 during this book but I am going to say that he is 18 or 19. Big thanks to my first two reviewers,** **TortoisetheStoryteller and ****moniquebowman**** who had awesome advice! **

Halt turned back to Yusal and his two men, who by that time had noticed his presence. The man to the left was the quickest to react. He drew his sword and swung a round house curve at Halt. He promptly ducked under it and punched the man so hard he heard ribs snap and break. The man doubled over and dropped his sword, which halt scooped up and forced into his neck. The other man just stood there and trembled as Halt calmly approached. He begged for mercy. Halt responded with a slit across the minion's neck, then he turned to finish off the leader. Yusal, gone was his army and money, he had nothing left to fight for. He simply sunk to the ground and Halt swung a final overhead stroke which resulted in the beheading of the "forgotten of god".

The grim ranger stepped back from the edge of the killing rage that had overcome him when he remembered what had happened to his apprentice. He looked back up to the cliff hoping to see Will rising out of the ruins, but no such luck.

Halt came to the remains of the tower breathing in ragged breaths alongside Horace and Gilan; without saying a word they fanned out to search the wreckage.

Horace was a mess. The fight in the market place was almost over when the tower went down. He had been sitting on the executioner's platform steps, cleaning his "borrowed" sword when he heard the dreadful noise. He sat there with his heart in his mouth as he witnessed the tower collapse. He was still in shock until Halt was standing in front of him, forcing him to his feet. Together they took off sprinting towards the cliff with Gilan appearing at their side.

Now as Horace searched he hoped against hope that Will was going to tap him on the back, and be grinning that ridiculous, infectious smile at the panic he caused them. But it never came because Horace had his heart frozen at the moment; due to the fact that he had spotted a tuff of brown hair sticking out underneath a large beam, lying in a pile of rubble.

"HALT! OVER HERE! ...halt!" Horace's voice was all choked up and swollen shut from angst, so he hoped Halt had heard him the first time. He didn't think his throat would allow him to say it again.

Halt and Gilan came running towards him. They approached with hope filled eyes, which slowly drained as they surveyed their fallen comrade's hair and undoubtedly his body hidden underneath. Together, Horace, Gilan and Halt were able to lift the log up and place it aside to reveal the unconscious, bruised, bloody form of Will.

Blood was oozing down the youngest ranger's cheek due to a gash above his right eye. A large part of Will's brown hair, now bleached blonder by the sun, was darkening by the spread of blood that flowed out of his scalp. The way one of his arms lay, Halt could tell that it was broken, at the very least badly dislocated or fractured. But none of those injuries compared to the rapidly widening circle of crimson red coming through Will's shirt on his stomach. All three of them immediately knelt beside their brother and son as they looked for the source of the bleeding. They didn't speak. Shock, panic and pain had descended upon them in a thick murky cloud. Will was the only thing they could see. Halt struggled to keep his hand steady has he picked up the offending object, responsible for the hole in Will's side. A jagged piece of wood. It lay beside Will's limp, open hand. "He was probably conscious when he first fell and pulled it out." Halt thought.

Gil could see Halt was too distracted, so he charged himself with the duty of pressing his unhooked cloak onto the gaping wound to stanch the flow of blood; Will had already lost a lot of the precious liquid matter to the sandy ground. Meanwhile as Horace looked down on his friend he felt the first traces of guilt creep in to his heart. "If I had never gotten captured then Will would have never had to rescue us and be stuck in this situation." He told himself. But deep down he knew it was not his fault. Will would have done the same thing regardless, that was just who he was.

Halt had finally gathered himself enough to focus on saving the boy, who managed to wiggle himself in to a position to be considered his son. He felt for a pulse along his neck, it was there but faint and fluttery, not a good sign. He pulled his hand away and found that his two fingers were now covered in blood. It took a lot of self-control not to scream, so he just calmly wiped it on his cloak. He looked up at Horace and realized he would cope better if he had something active to do so he said to him, "Horace focus…he's going to be fine, alright? But I need you to go get healers NOW...HURRY!"

The last two words didn't apply to Horace. He took off his sword, so as to not slow him down, and just kept his dagger; then even though he wasn't completely himself, he still had his long legs which he used to great effect. He was off, his legs churning in a blur like right out of a Wiley coyote episode. Halt and Gilan watched him go and hoped he wouldn't faceplant.

Turning back to Will, Halt realized that Gilan had his torso wound as much under control as it could be. He instead grabbed a corner of his cloak and set to work trying to soak up the blood that was escaping out of the gouge on Will's scalp. When the blood flow had slowed considerably to a more comfortable rate, he relieved Gil from his position. Only when he settled down in the spot where Gilan had once occupied did the full gravity of the situation hit him. As he put pressure on Will's stomach, warm blood dribbled out, underneath the red soaked cloak, and stained his hands. He could have howled in despair and frustration but he did not want to frighten Gilan; he needed to focus of Will. But he suspected Gil already knew what he was thinking because he looked up and met Halt's gaze with fierce determination and reassurance, for which he was silently grateful for.

Just when Halt thought Will couldn't hold on much longer, Horace reappeared. And he had brought the healer.

Horace did not even seem to have broken a sweat whereas the healer had enough on him for the both of them. Horace had his hand firmly latched on his collar and was dragging him up the hill. He didn't relinquish his hold, until the healer went to kneel down beside Will. Like Halt, he felt for his pulse and then reached in to his satchel and took out a small vial. He knelt forward to drop some of the contents into Will's mouth but Halt stepped into intervene.

"Whoa, what are you putting in him?" he asked accusatorily.

"This is Angel's breath, as the local call it. It helps stabilize his body, which is going into shock." The healer replied simply.

"Why aren't you operating on him?" Horace chipped in demandingly.

"I can't do that here, it is not clean enough. Unless you want diseases and infection to kill him before he bleeds out." The healer replied impatiently.

Halt hesitated, part of his instincts told him to stay where he was and keep constant pressure on the wounded area. "Risk the disease." But another part said, "Don't risk it. If Will has lost this much blood then what is a little more?" He chose the latter.

"Fine lets go. Gil lets swap cloaks, tie yours to Will using Horace's belt. Horace, you keep it in place for him."

Now that Halt was back to his former self Gilan felt much more confident. As Gilan and Horace worked on tying the makeshift "Band-Aid", around Will's middle, on as hard as they could Will let out a small moan. They all stopped, and waited for Will to come round and open his eyes. When he failed to perform his friends looked to the healer.

"Don't worry he won't wake up. The angel's breath will see to that. But even so we should hurry." He reassured them.

Halt bent down and slipped his well-defined arms underneath the limp form of his slender apprentice. He lifted Will up in a bridal carry, which would have been sure to embarrass him had he been conscious. As he lifted him up, Will's head fell lightly on Halt's shoulder. He had to adjust his hand position when Will again let out at small cry of pain. Gilan and Horace looked at each other sadly. Even though they both desired for Will to be ok, it didn't seem to be pointing in that direction.

**Stay tuned guys! Thank you again!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Tragedy in the Sands- Chapter 3 **

**Authors Note: I'm not in the medical field so any technical medical procedures mentioned in this piece of fiction are fictional as well. I apologize ahead of time if I reference something that does not necessarily belong in this era that RA took place in. Please read and review! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own RA. John Flanagan does.**

Halt felt they were going at way to slow a pace, but in the long run it paid off since going down the cliff was steep. It was even harder for Halt, who did not have his arms as a source to steady him. After carrying Will for about ten odd minutes, his arms were getting tired and sore, but still he refused to hand Will off despite Horace's and Gilan's protests. It was an awful thought but Halt had decided that if Will was going to die then it was going to be in his arms.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed as they reached the main square. The brawl was in the process of being cleaned up. Donkeys walked by dragging lifeless bodies of friend and foe alike, in wagons. It did not comfort the three friends as they realized that Will looked more like the corpses. They picked up their pace and approached a market stall that had been converted into a makeshift infirmary. There were three counters, two of which were occupied with civilians that had got caught up in-between the clashing forces. The healer gestured for Halt to put the young man on the open right counter. By gently lowering Will's body onto the plank and bracing his head to bring it to rest softly on the wood, Halt complied. Afterward the apothecary advised them to not watch the upcoming proceedings; the three companions wandered away to sit back on the executioners stage and awaited the news.

Nobody spoke for the longest time. They just sat side by side and watched people mill by as if nothing had ever happened. Nobody knew that across the square a young man was fighting for his life. Time passed. They anxiously waited. Nature seemed to lend a hand to distract them by casting a brilliant display of reds and oranges on the face of the cliff. It was odd, to the foreigners' eyes, for beauty to be here such a bleak and harsh place. Halt wanted to enjoy the view but he could not, worse still he hated it. The thought that Will might never be able to see another sunset infuriated him.

The three comrades were yanked form their thoughts when Selethen came by dragging a group of Tualaghi soldiers, bound and roped together. He was leading them to the cellar where they would be kept until tried and condemned. One of the prisoners towards the back of the line stopped and stared at Will as he lay on the table being operated on. The man smirked and turned around to rest his eyes on the two men, who were obviously part of the same unit due to likeness in uniform, and sneered,

"That's to bad about your friend. What's that saying? They grow up to fast? Or was it they die to fast?"

Halt was up and off his feet in an instant, seeming to glide towards the man who obviously had a death wish. He drew closer and smoothly drew his saxe knife from his belt.

"Halt! Halt! Relax! He's not even worth it! Think about what's important!" Gilan said as he and Horace laid hands on his shoulders. Halt stopped, but not because he thought they were right, but simply because he didn't feel like cleaning the other man's blood off his clean knife. The only thing stopping him was him thinking, "What would Will do?" Halt knew that he would have been mature enough to show restraint so he struggled to do the same.

The convict saw the barely restrained fury in the small bearded man's face. At first his smug smile faltered when he saw the death in the other man's eyes but his confidence perked back up as he noticed that his partners were restraining the small wiry man. He mistakenly decided to push his luck, for he enjoyed getting a reaction out of the man.

"Yeah that's right, think about what's important. Like the last words that kid is going to hear. How about he hears you screaming while being gutted in front of him? Then he can hear his own while I pay him the same treatment?" The raider's mouth twisting into an even crueler smile as his sick own fantasies built images in his mind.

"To hell with restraint and this man!" Halt thought as he lunged forward with his knife still in his hand. He managed to get a satisfying jab in at the base of the man's collarbone before Gil and Horace pried him away. Neither of them blamed Halt, in fact they were kinda pleased. They had even waited a split second for Halt to be able to land his mark, before pulling him back. They now hid their smirks from a confused looking Selethen as he walked up.

"There a problem here?"

"no no Halt was just informing this "man" exactly what he thought of him." Horace pitched in helpfully and maybe a little to cheerfully.

Selethen wisely just choose to ignore the whole incident and simply kicked and forced the men back into line. He proceeded at the same pace, leaving the now injured Tualaghi to stumble; his previous smirk was gone and was replaced by a grimace of pain. Horace and Gilan walked Halt away to recline back on the steps of the stage. Ever the skandians, Svengal and Erak approached with food; which was just flat bread with some round orange balls of fruit, "They call them Oranges" Erak had said. They handed the bread off to each member, who nodded their thanks but said nothing else. Both the northern wild men were somber as each person silently prayed for Will to be alright.

Eventually, Erak, who could never stand long periods of silence, cleared his throat and said, "He's a strong lad ranger; he'll pull through, and we will be there when he does."

Halt nodded in appreciation. But then his face grew grim as he spoke quietly and deliberately, " I want a 24 hour watch on Will after he…gets out of surgery. I will be on first watch."

Horace looked at him confusedly, " Why? Are you expecting someone to come after him?"

"No, not necessarily I just have a feeling."

"Does this have something to do with what that bastard Tualaghi said?" Gil interrupted quietly.

"Maybe," Halt turned to him, "But regardless, I know Will would like to see somebody there when he wakes up."

_If he wakes up_, although nobody said it the obvious response hung in the air, making it impossible for the people present to not notice it. Halt's grim face stared off in to space but he still clung to the hope that Will would not abandon them.

"He will wake up." Horace said with just a little bit more force than necessary, but he could sense the declining optimism in the atmosphere.

Meanwhile the healer operating on Will had his work cut out for him. He had to first check and make sure that when he closed up the hole in the young man's side that there would be on internal bleeding. He found a slit in Will's lung and started to stitch it up. During the process Will let a small moan escape from him. It was so faint and it cut off so quickly, that the healer began to wonder if Will was indeed lucid enough to try and hold it back. He quickly checked his pupils and then his pulse; and just for good measure, he dripped 3 more drops of "angel's breath" into his mouth. Returning to his job, he proceeded to stitch up the lung and then continue on closing the laceration in the bowman's side. When he had finished stitching up the gash above the boy's eye and the open wound on Will's head , the sun had been settled behind the cliffs, and the sand dunes, for a long time. He was completing the task of tying Will's dislocated arm on his chest, when the two men who had brought him in returned, along with some other new faces, large new faces.

"How is he? Are you done? Has he woken up yet?" It would have amused Halt, in possibly a different scenario, to notice that he sounded just like Will, always asking more than one question in a single breath.

However the healer just smiled and said," Yes he should be ok. He will need plenty of rest, preferably noting that involves falling out of towers. He will not have full movement in his right arm for perhaps a month or so because it was badly dislocated in the fall. Likewise his side will be very sore as well. I recommend him gently exercising his injured muscles in order for the quickest recovery. His blood loss was great but the body should already be working to make up for the amount he lost. This brave lad will most likely make a full recovery."

There was a collective sigh of relief, faces were lifted, and shoulders that were previously bent in holding a thousand pounds grew straighter. However, the healer was not done yet, with good news came a warning,

"But be careful, seeing what this boy gets himself into in just one day I recommend that you guys keep him on a leash until he can at least walk without holding on to somebody and keep down solid foods."

The surrounding faces nodded their understanding. With approval from the medic, Halt once again slipped his arms underneath Will's back and knees and lifted him up. The procession made their way out of the market and continued to the edge of the town.

**I apologize if this chapter was slow. Thanks for reading! And thanks to all the reviewers I have the motivation to make this story longer! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Tragedy in the Sands - Chapter 4 **

**Authors Note: I understand the title might be throwing people off; to be honest I didn't realize exactly what I was alluding to by using that phrase of words. But now that I think about it I could easily adjust my story so that it fits with the title. Also, I don't really write for Evanlyn very often, so because of that, her part was sparse. Anyway please read and review! **

As they approached the camp, Evanlyn, who had not heard the news yet, came running up to them.

Horror was plain on her face; her eyes glistened with unshed tears, "What happened? Is he okay?"

Horace stepped out of the group to pull her aside since she was crowding Will and threatening to disturb his newly stitched wounds. Halt and Gil and the two skandians, continued on to the tent that Umar had set aside for Will.

"The tower collapsed on him. It was pretty bad. But the healer did a pretty good of patching him up."

She just stood there, shocked into silence. The thought of Will getting hurt was unfathomable. They were talking about the same Will here right? The same Will who had stood fearlessly against the wargals and Skandians at the bridge? The same one who had protected her on the rock island and during the Temujai invasion? Will always got out of dangerous situations unscathed. This couldn't be happening.

Horace gently roused her from her thoughts as he said, "Will won't be awake for a while, wanna get something to eat? I'm starving."

Despite the situation Evanlyn found herself smiling a little at that. Only Horace would be hungry at a time like this. She thought.

"Okay sure. They have a buffet table somewhere for all the Arridi and Bedullin soldiers, just don't eat the whole table, save some for the rest of the army." She joked.

Even Horace had to chuckle at that.

After Horace left the procession, the others continued on to Will and Halt's tent or more accurate, a pavilion, since it was dictated that they would share. Unlike the tents in Araluen who had thick wool walls to keep out the cold, these tents had white sheets draped as the four walls that flowed in the breeze; At night a thicker roll could be rolled down to repel the cold, fortunately it was nowhere near as stuffy as the ones from the Araluen's homeland. Halt entered the tent with his charge and surveyed the premises out of habit. When he deemed it safe and comfortable we strode over to the cot farthest from the entrance and gently laid will down, pulling the light blanket over him. The others stood back. Erak and Svengal looked awkward as if they were observing some sacred show of tenderness from the grizzly, old, ranger. Gilan look undisturbed. A few more minutes of silence passed, during which time the two north men debated on how to end the silence, and Halt and Gilan observed their young friend who In the end it was Gil who broke the silent vigil.

Addressing the Skandians, "You guys still hungry?"

The two men looked surprised. "umm yeah. I could eat, actually I could eat a whale, or whatever is the biggest animal in this god forsaken place." Svengal smirked.

Erak had yet to speak; he was still eyeing the grim ranger and his resting apprentice worriedly. Halt had not moved from his place, like he was frozen. His hand was still resting on Will's chest while it moved up and down in time with the boys shallow breathing. "Ranger you want something?

"Coffee, maybe?" Gilan commented.

That seemed to rouse Halt. "Huh? Oh ya..ummm.. coffee sounds great." He said quietly.

He did not sound like he was going to be leaving himself, but Gil just nodded, he understood. Halt was going to by Will bedside until he woke up, Gilan concluded.

"Alright, I'll be back with your coffee and honey." He said with a smile in his voice.

"Thanks Gilan" Halt said quietly.

Without another word Gilan strode out of the tent, but not before he gave Will once last sad gaze; then he was gone, only the swaying of the curtain across the door gave him away that he had been there. Erak and Svengal followed after giving Halt a gentle slap on the back in encouragement, except gentle in skandians terms was not so with people in the normal world, especially for an under average heighted ranger. Halt was still grimacing ruefully when the flap of the pavilion swung shut in their wake. He sighed and pulled a pillowed stool over to Will's bedside.

"I'm here anytime you want to wake up Will." He said softly.

He was not surprised when he did not receive an answer but for some reason he was disappointed. He had unrealistic expectations that Will was going to bounce back from this, like he did with everything else in his life. No! He yelled at the subconscious part of him that had accepted Will would never recover despite what the doctor had said. Will was going to be fine. He had never let Halt down; he had just proved that yet again as he came firing to the rescue during their execution. Halt reached over placed his hand back over Will's heart, needing the reassurance. He's going to be fine, he told himself. And he believed it.

Three days had gone by; Halt passed the time occupying the space next to Will's cot. The others were in and out quite often, Gilan and Horace more than three times a day, but nobody matched the oldest ranger's attendance record. He barely left except to go to relieve himself. Every once in a while, when he needed somebody to talk to without wanting to break his role as strong leader, he would go and check in on Abelard and the rest of the horses. There he felt safe to vent to his "vault-of-secrets" horse, not surprisingly it was mostly about Will. But most times he was in his tent with Will, still unconscious. Horace, Gilan or sometimes Evanlyn would bring him some food , otherwise he would never eat, and replenish his coffee cup. But it was on one of his visits to the stables when Will opened his eyes.

**Kinda a filler chapter, oh well. Please review! Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Authors Note- The last chapter was short and boring, so I figured I could make it up to you guys by updating within the next day. Thanks to all the reviewers! Amazing feedback! Please continue read and review. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer- John Flanagan owns RA, consequently; I do not.**

Will groaned as his first feeling was one of stiffness and smoldering fire. It felt like someone had lit several candles on his stomach and let them burn until the hot wax melted and pooled to still on his abdomen. His whole side was a sharp ache and he found it harder than normal to breath. He laid unmoving on his back, he lacked the strength to roll over, which was confusing him because the last thing he could remember was him firing arrow after arrow in to the crowd down below all the while fighting off the small number of raiders who had made it up to his vantage point. So what am I doing here? Where is Halt and the rest of them? Gilan? Horace? He thought. Looking around, his eyes in slits, to limit the amount of sun exposure, he saw nobody, Oh god! Was I able to stop the execution? Panic seized him, he squeezed his eyes, concentrating, trying to remember. His memory was spotty, all he caught were flashes. Bit of color here and there, but not enough to piece together a timeline. The only image that came through clearly was a giant object, of some kind, hurling towards him from the sky. Sighing, he resolved to come back to that later because other sensations were coming back to him; His head felt like the anvil for the blacksmiths hammer. Maybe what Horace always said had finally come true, "all that thinking was going to hurt his head". On top of that his right eye brow itched like crazy. But now that he was paying attention to his body, he discovered that his whole right arm was limp, so limp in fact he wondered if it was there at all. He lifted his head slowly, with a lot of effort, and found it was very much still attached to his body, maybe a little too much since it was tied firmly to his chest. He also noticed that his tunic was cut open so exposed his mummy like, bandaged torso Will, exhausted by the effort, was more than willing to let his head drop back on the pillow. He let his eyes drift close for a few minutes. He tried to recall the events leading up to him lying in this bed and what happened to his friends, all the while drowning out the buzz of life taking place just outside his tent flap. He heard the crunching of sand underfoot approaching, so he continued to keep his eyes shut, kept up with the pretense of sleeping and made sure to breathe in as deep as he could without outwardly showing pain. Just until he identified the newcomer, Will told himself. Already the breathing was getting more painful than normal.

Halt came back from the stables with his big cup of _kafay_ in hand. He was ready to settle back down to resume his vigil waiting for the young man to gain consciousness. He sighed and sat heavily back down in the chair. He watched Will as his chest rose slowly and fell even slower. He glanced down at his boots wondering when a miracle would come. Little did he kno-

"Can I have some of that?" Will inquired softly, almost at a whisper.

Halt jerked his head up in shock; Will's eyes were still closed so for a second he wondered if he had imagined the sound. No definitely not, he decided. Will's eyes were moving underneath his lids almost as if he was trying to open them. Will had recognized Halt and let the faint tension run out of body, leaving him bone tired again, so much so found he hard to open his eyes again.

"Does it really take something as simple as that to bring you around?" Halt asked incredulously, successfully keeping his glee and relief out of his gentle sarcastic tone.

Will still didn't open his eyes but he smiled.

"How do you feel?" Halt inquired in a softer tone.

Will nodded his head a little bit, in assurance that he felt fine, so that he would not dig the dagger, that he felt was protruding from his head any farther in to his aching skull. He grimaced.

Halt decided not to comment on the facial expression, instead he asked, "Could you try to open your eyes or does it hurt too much?"

Will grunted, hoping Halt understood that meant yes. It seemed he had since he continued, "Here just try. I'll even be your personal maid and block the sun for you." Will smiled at that, the very image of Halt wearing a dress and serving anybody anything other than a knuckle sandwich was comical. But Will recognized the plea hidden in the request; he knew he must have been in bad shape to get Halt in this attitude. He felt Halt's rough and calloused hand gently being placed over his eyes to shield his sensitive eyes. The youngest ranger took this as his cue. Halt waited until he felt eyelashes timidly flutter open against the inside of his hand before slowly pulling his hand away.

Halt looked down on the confused, pain filled, deep brown eyes. He thought he was never going to see those eyes open again. Will for his part was feeling uncomfortable under the continuous silent scrutiny. He tried to shift his position, then instantly wished he hadn't due to intense pain engulfing his side; which felt like a fire that had gotten a gust of oxygen. He slammed his eyes shut as white erupted in his vision. He clenched his jaw shut but could not stop a gasp of pain eliciting from him. Halt looked panicked for a split second before masking it. He replaced it with reassurance. The master laid his hand on his apprentice's uninjured shoulder to steady him. Halt softly squeezed it in comfort; he only released once he saw Will pry his eyes back open. The pain was more prominent in his eyes now than they were earlier. The older man made a mental note to harass the healer for some pain medication as soon as possible.

"Careful! Take it easy…just rest. You had a spear of wood sticking out of your side; you lost a lot of blood. You were unconscious for three days. Gave us quite a scare Will." Halt soothed.

Will's natural curiosity, never to be dampened, even by a near death experience, was able to help him focus on filling in some blanks in his memory, instead of on the intense pain in his side.

"What happened? Where are the others? Is Evanlyn alright? What about Horace and Gilan?"

Halt hid a smile at the typical styled Will question; it always led to more questions.

"They're alright; they're all fine, thanks to you and some Arridi soldiers and Bedullin warriors who appeared out of nowhere." The amusement at Will ingenuity was clear in Halt's voice. But then it grew somber as he continued, "But Yusal managed to destroy your tower using a catapult. Gil, Horace and I found you under a large support beam. Do you remember any of that?"

Will frowned in concentration, trying to recall anything. Now that Halt mentioned it he did remember lying in the dark underneath something heavy. There had been a painful itch at his side. And his cheek felt slick with something. He remembered being so annoyed at the persistent twitch in his side that he had grabbed whatever it was and pulled. As soon as he did that, he had wanted to put it back in. The pain flared up so much so he had let himself pass into unconsciousness.

"A little bit. Not much. I just remember being in the dark." Will admitted.

They fell silent for a few moments, satisfied with being in each other's presence.

Will sniffed as the aroma of coffee reminded him of his first question that Halt had tactically ignored, "So can I have some of that coffee?"

This time the smile really did break through on Halt's face.

"No this is my cup, made it myself. You want a cup, you make it."

Will was about to respond in similar sarcastic fashion when a different voice cut through the tent, "That's funny Halt because I seem to recall that _I _made that cup of coffee for you."

"Gilan!" Will exclaimed happily. He would have moved to embrace him, but his body wouldn't let him without punishing him harshly.

Both the older rangers seemed to sense this, Halt laid a gentle restraining hand on Wills chest while Gil replied, "Easy Will don't move. Although it is comforting to see that you haven't lost your impulsiveness." Will had the grace to look embarrassed at that; Gilan continued in a less joking manner, "It's great to see you awake. You were in pretty bad shape."

"So I've been told." Will yawned. Suddenly the coffee didn't seem like such a good idea because then it would hinder him from falling asleep; something his eyes seemed to desperately want to do at the moment.

Halt took the cue, patted Wills chest once, stood and ordered, "Get some sleep Will. We will be here when you wake up." Will didn't argue as he slipped in to darkness effortlessly.

Now alone the two rangers conversed, "How is he really?" Gilan inquired.

"He's in pain; I'm going to see the healer and get something for that. He can't seem to remember much of what happened after the tower collapsed. I probably should be worried but I guess it's a small mercy that he doesn't remember all of it."

Gilan nodded in agreement. He could see the relief overshadowing the exhaustion in Halts eyes. But that didn't mean that the tiredness just went away. Halt had barely slept for three days now. Horace and himself had tried to coax Halt to get some rest in the that time but he had declined. Now since Will had woken up he hoped Halt would take some down time.

"Come on. He's exhausted just like you. Let's go get some food. Maybe you can reconnect with the outside world, if it hasn't already forgotten you."

Halt snorted, "This world owes me to much. It would never forget me. I'm too valuable." He said as he made his way out of the tent.

Gilan laughed while he followed, "I think your confusing valuable with dispensable." He joked.

While others might have taken offence, Halt merely snorted again, "No that would be you. Now where is the food? I'm starving."

"Ha! This way, if Horace and the skandians left us anything."

Will's tent grew quiet as the footsteps receded in to the background, it was peaceful; faintly one could hear Will breathing softly as he slept. Then the atmosphere shattered as a shadow appeared against the white sheets. It could have been a passing stranger except it paused at the edge of the entrance, as if listening for anybody inside. Hearing none the figure peered into the door way. Cruel eyes surveyed the empty tent save for the vulnerable, sleeping figure on the cot in the corner. The eyes lit upon the boy, he approached silently. A long dagger seemed to leap into a darkly tanned hand. He reached the end of the bed and observed the unconscious young bowman.

"Left you all alone did they? Well that was their mistake, unfortunately you will be the one paying for it." The sinister whisper could hardly be heard; if one could not interpret the words, the evil smirk that spread across the man's face spoke volumes.

**A/N-Well that's it for now, until next time! Ha ok maybe the ending was a little cliché but I got the point across. Will is in trouble! Again. I do have one request though, could somebody honestly review and tell me if maybe I waste too much time describing stuff, especially in this chapter. I know description is good but for some reason I think I'm over doing it. Ha well what do I know? **** Thanks for reading and your continued support. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Authors Note- I am so sorry for the long silence! :( I have no excuse. On another note, thank you to all my reviewers! They were all very helpful and they got me excited to write this chapter when I finally got around to it :) Please continue to review and feel free to leave suggestions for future chapters. Not saying I am necessarily going to use them, but I would enjoy the ideas since two plus heads are better than one! :) This chapter was harder to write since I deviated from my original script. Happy New year everybody! **

Meanwhile, Gilan had finished heaping monstrous proportions on Halt's plate which he insisted on making. The size would have made Horace proud. His mentor exchanged an annoyed and slightly amused look with the younger man, when he caught sight of the mountain of food that was piled on his plate.

"Trying to fatten me up Gilan? Making it so that I'm easier to kill?" He said with heavy sarcasm.

"No one can kill you." Gilan retorted, Halt allowed a slight smile at the compliment of his invincibility, but it faded to a glare when the young Ranger continued, "… Besides even if someone could, why would they waste their time on a fat, old hedgehog?"

"Thank you for looking out for my well-being." He responded icily.

Gilan nodded happily, "Anytime." He said breezily.

Halt snatched his plate from the grinning young man's hand and stalked past him, leading the way to one of the many campfires that brightened the camp, muttering something about using his former apprentice's head for a pin cushion in the near future just loud enough for Gilan to hear, and wipe the smirk off his face. Perhaps he could have left out the "old" part and picked a slightly less fat animal to compare the prickly ranger to. Knowing he would be paid back in kind in the near future, Gil sighed and hurried to keep up with his insulted friend.

Halt led the way to a campfire that the rest of their companions were gathered around. The makeshift, temporary village, which was set up on the outskirts of the ruined city, was alive with hurrying people, soldiers and prisoners alike. An agreement had been set up between the local ruler and Selethen saying that the captured Tualaghi bandits would stay here under armed guard to rebuild the city that they had economically and physically destroyed. Horace, the two Skandians, Evanlyn, and the Wakir in mention, were all seated around a comfortable fire, quietly talking about nothing in particular. They all looked up, surprise written on all their faces when they spied Halt. The oldest ranger always ate in Will's tent; if he was here he could be bringing good news.

"How's the boy?" Multiple people had spoken at once by Erak's booming captain voice drowned them all out.

Pleased to deliver good news Halt replied, "He's awake but he's sleeping again."

He and Gil settled down beside each other with Horace on Halt's left and Evanlyn on Gilan's right. Halt placed down his plate of food, felt five pairs of eyes on him and looked back up again. He was not disappointed; everyone present was staring at him expectantly waiting for him to release more details about their injured friend.

Suppressing a small laugh the bearded ranger continued, "His first words were 'Can I have some of your coffee?'"

The circle around the campfire rippled with amused chuckles, with a "That figures" coming from Evanlyn's direction.

"Sounds like 'es on the mend then. Young en's always do bounce back fast." Svengal remarked.

"Well he's got a long way to go still before he is back to full capacity, but he should be able to be on his feet by the end of next week." Halt contradicted softly, not wanting to get anyone's hopes up.

The lot nodded their understanding and fell into a compatible silence. Selethen and Gilan were thinking and reminiscing about the wild past few days, while gazing into the red flames of the near fire. The Skandians and Evanlyn were distracted by the livid culture walking by their campsite, watching the glowing lights of the torches and other fires and as well as the vibrant colors the locals wore. Halt was eating but was determined not to eat the whole giant serving despite his hunger, since it was his own rebellious way of showing Gilan that he was not fat nor old. Horace was doing a combination of all three, wolfing down his third helping of exotic food. When the two Araluans were finished eating surprisingly it was Selethen who broke the silence.

All his thinking made him remember a piece of information that he had intended to tell Halt, "By the way I had something I was meaning to tell you, one of the prisoners escaped from one of the cellar where my men were detaining them. Hit a guard over the head with a wooden mallet that must have been stored in there. We haven't been able to find him yet. But I have everybody on high alert in case he tries to break his fellow criminals out."

Out of pure curiosity Horace asked, "Who was he?"

Selethen glanced at him before he addressed the whole audience; their interest was aroused, he could tell, and they welcomed the distraction from thinking about Will's predicament, "Umm I don't remember the name, but coincidentally it was the same deserving bastard who Halt stabbed a couple days ago.

Halt's attention really cued in then, he remembered the pipe dream threats the man had uttered about Will. They had been disregarded at the time, but now that he was free and unaccounted for, the threats seemed to be much more tangible and life -like. As soon as he had the thoughts pass through his brain, he stiffened in some sixth sense. Gilan and Horace, who were also present for the little scuffle, became tense as well. It made sense for the escaped man to come after the person responsible to his defeat as well as his own friend's deaths. Will.

Halt was the first to react, he jumped up and darted back through the crowd, weaving his way toward his apprentice lying vulnerable in his bed sleeping, Horace and Gilan had come to the same realization and were close behind him. The others were confused but followed anyway.

Halt busted through the ten flaps and slid to a halt (no pun intended) in horror. Horace and Gilan, who were right on his heels, almost toppled over themselves, each other, and Halt as they tried to stop abruptly. They managed to slide to the sides in time for them to stand three abreast, staring in bitter anger at the sight before them. The recently liberated bandit was occupying the space Halt normally sat in; he had pulled the chair closer though so that it was touching the side of the cot. A large knife was twirling casually in his right hand which was stretch out over Will's neck, coming dangerously close, at points, to their unconscious friend. The others soon entered the tent, they remained quite behind Halt, their unanimously chosen speaker.

The Tualaghi broke the tense silence, " I was wondering how long it would take for you to come back to your abandoned post."

Halt clenched his jaw at the insinuation that he had abandoned Will, but then he controlled his raging emotions behind a mask, effectively giving nothing away. He could sense Gilan do the same beside him; Horace made a valiant attempt but you could still see a small amount of rage and worry flitting through his eyes.

"Well I'm here," Halt replied curtly, "What do you want?"

"I _want_ nothing more than to slice this boy open and let you smell his insides while I gut him; after all he did to my friends I think he deserves it," This time the whole party present tensed; the murder continued, "but regretablly for me I will not do that at this moment. Unfortunately this pathetic human being is worth more to me alive at the moment…. He's going to get me out of here. Me and every single one of my compatriots."

"And how will he help you do that?" Halt asked, he was just stalling for time; he really didn't want to know what plans the sick man had in store for Will.

"Oh he will do nothing other than assure your complete corporation, while you and the dear Wakir release all my colleagues with plenty foot, water and horses. We will then make your friend here accompany us a short ways on our journey to insure our escape, when we are far enough out we will leave him in relatively good shape. You can comply now or you can decline and I will eagerly carve in to this boys flesh"

Halt felt his heart sink to his toes, he had to resist the urge to look down and see if he could see a bulge in the tip of his boots to prove his feeling correct. Instead he stared intensely at the hostage negotiator. The man, if you could call him that, had fallen silent, waiting for a response. All eyes had turned to Halt, who seemed to be deep in thought.

The tension was so thick Horace doubted even Halt's armor piercing arrows could have punched through it. He, along with the others waited breathlessly for Halt to make a decision. The ransomed, who had yet to give a name, had switched from twirling the knife to brushing it millimeters above Wills neck, as if giving him a phantom shave.

Horace held his breath as Halt opened his mouth to give his answer, "How do I know you'll even keep your word?"

"You don't. But you don't really have a choice; I guess you'll just have to trust me." The man replied smirking evilly.

That did _not_ instill a lot of confidence in any of them. Horace was silently begging for Halt to say no and to find another way but before he could Halt replied, "Alright fine, but we need time." Halt hoped to find an opportunity later on if the man gave them enough.

"You have four hours. Better hurry."

**A/N- Did anybody guess who the mysterious, sinister man is? I apologize, it seems very cruel of me to leave your guys hanging for so long and then come out with this short chapter. I have already started writing the next chapter so I will hopefully have it published by Wednesday. Please leave me ideas, I would love to hear them! Also it goes without saying but everybody else says it so I might as well be "original"… PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS ARE LOVE! (whatever that means) :) **


End file.
